At First Glance
by Scribomaniac
Summary: She was very pretty. Prettier than anyone he'd ever seen before—tree shagger or not. He wished—for the first time in his life—that the gangs didn't exist, that he could just walk up to her and start a conversation. They did exist though, the cool metal links between his fingers served as a reminder, and so he couldn't. Still, he could look, and dream, and maybe even hope.


Kili's breathing was erratic. His lungs burned as they tried to pull in much needed oxygen and he could feel a trail of saliva making its way down chin, slowly pushing its way over his stubble. Blinking, Kili looked down as his hands. They were shaking with adrenaline and something more. Something he couldn't quite name. His knuckles were torn to shreds. Blood seeped through the weathered skin and he could see the early signs of bruises. He was sure his face looked much the same. Kili could even feel his left eye begin to swell and knew he needed to get ice on it ASAP to keep it from closing completely shut. If Fili were here, he'd be berating him and pulling out his personal first aid kit to use on his younger brother.

Fili wasn't here, though. Maybe if he were, things wouldn't have escalated as much as they had. His brother was the smart one—the level headed one—after all. A low groan caught Kili's attention. Slowly unclenching his fists, Kili moved closer to the man on the ground. His hair was long, longer than Kili's, but that's where the similarities between the two men ended. The man on the ground's features were fair and elegant—though in his current state it was difficult to tell—his hair fine and straight like straws of hay whereas Kili's features were tougher, meaner and his hair vaguely resembled a bird's nest.

Smirking, Kili gave the man another kick to the ribs, "Who's the midget now, eh, tree shagger?" Wiping away at the spit still on his face, Kili limped away from the man towards the direction of Iron Hills, headquarters to the Sons of Durin gang. Turning out of the alley way, Kili heard the man give out another, longer groan and felt no remorse. The man was a member of the Mirkwood gang, after all, and this was Durin territory. The man came into _his_ house, Kili thought, insulted _his_ height—he deserved what he got.

Now that he was walking away from the fight, though, and the adrenaline was leaving him, Kili began to worry about running into anyone else along the way. The Orcs of Moria—another gang—had been seen around the boarders of Durin's territory lately. Kili's uncle and gang leader, Thorin, had been bellowing about their presence for weeks. Moving his arm to clutch his side, Kili hoped that he wouldn't cross pass with any of them while on his own. He wasn't afraid of a fight. No, in fact, Kili reveled in the rush, but in his current state, running into a squad of Orcs wouldn't _be_ a fight at all. It'd be a slaughter.

Shaking the negative thoughts out of his head, Killi trusted in his luck that nothing bad would happen and continued his way down the semi-bustling streets. Deciding to take a short cut down an alleyway, Kili dragged his fingers along the chain link fence that served as a physical divider between Durin and Mirkwood territory. Grinning to himself, Kili remembered all the times he and his brother came to this very alley to make faces at passing Mirkwood patrols, tempting the tree shaggers into a scrap. The sound of a lead pipe grating against the brick of a building caught Kili's ear. He knew that sound well, he'd heard it many times before with Fili. A patrol was just around the corner.

Not being able to help himself, even in his current state—Kili stopped walking, faced the fence, and wrapped his fingers through the links. He wouldn't start anything, not really. He'd just taunt the patrol a bit with a few stupid faces—make their faces red with anger, that sort of thing. Two figures rounded the corner, a man and a woman. At least, Kili thought the blond one was male. The Mirkwood lot all looked the same with their delicate cheekbones, small noses, and sharp chins—it was ridiculous! They were talking in whispered voices to one another, the faces so close they were almost kissing. Neither had noticed Kili yet.

The male leaned against the building, gesturing behind him with a nod his head before taking a step backwards. The girl just shrugged and murmured something too soft for Kili to hear. The male started walking back the way they came—Kili figured he'd forgotten something—and the female stayed where she was. She wielded the lead pipe in her left hand and began to twirl it in her fingers for a few moments before she noticed Kili staring at her at the end of the alley.

Now that she was looking straight at him, Kili could get a good look at her, and what he saw brought a blush to his cheeks. She was very pretty. Prettier than anyone he'd ever seen before—tree shagger or not. He wished—for the first time in his life—that the gangs didn't exist, that he could just walk up to her and start a conversation. The gangs did exist though, the cool metal links between his fingers served as a reminder, and so he couldn't. Still, he could look, and dream, and maybe even hope, especially when he noticed she was staring back with a similar hue in her cheeks.

"Tauriel!" A muffled voice called, breaking their spell. The girl—Tauriel, Kili thought with a sigh—turned her head in the direction of the voice. She glanced back at Kili once, a curious gleam in her eye, before disappearing around the corner. Kili felt his chest tighten and burn again, but this time it had nothing to do with a fight or lack of oxygen and everything to do with a red head named Tauriel.

 **A/N: So I wrote this a while ago for my friend karrot-nuggles on tumblr-she created the fabulous art that lead to my writing GOME and this little drabble. Hope you enjoyed!**


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